Fall of Grace
by Kengeta1
Summary: Fall of Grace is about the return of an Arch Angel...
1. Prologue

Sitting in bed last night at about 2 AM, the idea suddenly hit me. Excitedly working it all out in my mind, I booted my computer up, and waited while it loaded. After an hour of writing and thinking and everything, I finally had a decent plot line. No idea if you'll consider it any good, but let's just find out, shall we?  
  
Ranma ½ and all it's subsidiaries are the work and creation of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi. This is derivative fiction, and is not meant to harm the series in any way. You could sue me, but I'm broke anyway, and I don't like lawyers much.  
  
And ooops, one more thing before I start. The intro here is EXTREMELY confusing, and it's meant to be that way. It's not that long, however, so bear with me.  
  
Fall of Grace  
Prologue  
  
  
Soft, soft.... starting.  
  
Fading into red... blood. Red like blood.  
  
Splattering, everywhere... laughter. Laugher and red.  
  
Silence, then. But change... bad change. Lurking within, different colors, lurking outside.  
  
Light, grainy color. Rust-colored. Everywhere, surrounding. Hard, quick. Death.  
  
Flash of steel. That laughter again. That cold, rising laughter again. Laughter of death.  
  
Darkness. Pulling down, sinking. Don't want to go there. Don't want to be there.  
  
Then, light. Oh, that light. Banishing darkness. Light, pure light. No more thoughts of rust and steel. Faraway, pulsing, uttering soft sounds, comforting.  
  
Pain, haze, black. Thick, tarlike. Floating to the surface of it, slowly, towards the light at the edge of the dark. No fear, waiting.  
  
Oh, that light. So, so comforting, like memories lost. Warm, soft.  
  
Floating, floating... eternally. The top, the edge, no more pain, no more dark. Light at the end, always light at the end. Always the end, the end.  
  
That sound, the one so soft. Not sound. Voices. One Voice. Warm, caring... mother. So long, never with her. Miss her. Oh, memories.. so soft, so caring. Coming to banish the dreams, the nightmares.  
  
*Wake up, Ranma...*  
  
Soft... beautiful. Like Akane. Akane's smile, like that. So cute, cute when she smiles. Soft, endearing... does she know that? Oh, she needs to know that. Badly.  
  
*Awaken, Ranma... please...*  
  
An embrace... one never experienced, in forever, so long. Can't remember now, memories hurt so bad.  
  
*But don't forget this...*  
  
Dark... don't forget it. Want to...can't. Darkness attacking family, loved ones. Threatening Akane. Fight it, that hard flash of rust and steel.  
  
Don't ever, ever forget.  
  
A sigh.  
  
A sigh?  
  
*I warned you...*  
  
Warning?  
  
*WHOOSH*  
  
*SLAM!!*  
  
"I WARNED YOU!!!!" Akane angrily flew out of Ranma's room, leaving her large mallet on top of Ranma's head.  
  
Ranma twitched, the large mallet slowly falling over. He was about to sink back into that deep, black darkness he had just come out of, when he heard something, far away.  
  
*But don't ever, ever forget...*  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
Tatewaki Kuno slowly stretched, yawning. It was morning, and the light of the sun had spilled into his room, alighting the pictures of his two 'loves'.  
  
"Ah..." Kuno sighed, gazing at the posters on the wall. This was part of the daily ritual in which he would promise his two true 'loves' that he would set them free.   
  
"Oh, my loves, my goddesses, wait one last day! Today is the day I shall smite that cretinous, foul Saotome, and free thee from his spell!"  
  
Quick as clockwork.  
  
Rising from his bed, Kuno began to dress. Donning his samurai garb, he smoothed his hair out and reached for his bokken.  
  
Ah, what a day today would be!  
  
Heading down the stairs towards the kitchen, the faint sounds of birdsong ringing in his ear, Kuno reveled in the beauty of the day.  
  
"Ah, what beauty doth my eyes and ears percieve, but that what is likened to my true loves? Though fair this morn be, the sight is enough to make my eyes tear upon the lack of your most beautified presences!!"  
  
Walking into the dining room, Kuno sat down and prepared to eat the meal prepared for him earlier in the day.  
  
Yet, there wasn't a meal.  
  
This came as some surprise to him. Quite a surprise, in fact. Sasuke should have long ago prepared breakfast for him, and by this time of the day, he should be eating it.  
  
...Where was Sasuke, anyway?  
  
He hadn't been there when he had awoken, and there was no meal prepared, either. Odd. Had he run away again? He didn't remember being crueller than normal to Sasuke.  
  
Standing back up and sighing, he slowly began to make his way around the Kuno estate. Somewhere, he'd find Sasuke... hopefully.  
  
After 30 minutes of this, however, he began to get frustrated. Where in hell could Sasuke be?  
  
This is when he found him.  
  
Asleep.  
  
...lazy ninja.  
  
Stomping his foot loudly on the ground to wake Sasuke, Kuno threw his bokken at him. "Know you what time it is??"  
  
"I..." Sasuke groggily blinked. "Oh, master, no. What time is it?"  
  
"I'm late for school, you idiot!!" Kuno yelled.  
  
Sasuke jumped in surprise. "Oh, master, please forgive me!" bowing down, he began to cry "I'm so very sorry master! Let me make it up to you by preparing a large fea-" he was interupted by Kuno's snarl of anger.  
  
"No time for that now, man! Just make sure there is sustenance prepared for me upon my return!" Kuno picked up his bokken and angrily made his way out of the estate towards Furinkan.  
  
In his anger, he had forgotten to stop by the small shrine at which he often prayed before leaving for school. Hence why he never noticed it lying in a small pile, shattered and broken when it had fallen down.  
  
Yes, what a day today would be indeed.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
Ranma groggily made his way downstairs, rubbing the back of his head where Akane had slammed her mallet onto his him.  
  
"Uncute tomboy..." he muttered, praying to Kami she was nowhere near enough to hear him.  
  
His mind, however, was not on the sizable lump that still pulsed in pain. That dream, which had, even in it's shortness, occupied his whole night, had been a strange twisted one.  
  
One full of darkness, pain, and an eternal sadness. One he hoped would never come to be.  
  
Shaking his head, he continued down the stairs, when he suddenly doubled over in pain. Oh gods, the pain! As if a thousand voices were screaming, peircing his head. As if a thousand cold, dead hands were tearing at his flesh.  
  
Oh kami, only a dream, only a dream!  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
It was a quiet morning, an altogether beautiful, wonderful morning, one that people everywhere would fling open their doors and windows to, letting in the fresh air and the bright sun.  
  
Dammit all.  
  
A man slowly walked down an abandoned street. He was tall and thin, and his thick, black hair spiked up and fell over his large, liquid red eyes. He had a saiya strapped to his back, which held what looked to be a long, thin Katana. His trenchcoat, which swung around his large, black, military style boots as he walked, had a highly peculiar rust color to it, one that seemed to be swirling around on itself, as if it were alive. Had anyone noticed this, they would have stopped and stared at it.  
  
Not that there was anyone to stop and stare.  
  
Truth of the matter was, the street wasn't really abandoned. As a matter of fact, not ten whole minutes ago, the entire street was full of people, laughing, smiling, and moving about their day with a bright cheery smile. If the man had seemed to know that the empty street he was down had been a lively, busy street, full of life not half an hour ago, he made no sign of it.  
  
Or, perhaps he didn't care.  
  
The man, in truth, liked the fact it was empty. It suited him right now, though his mood was likely to change, as it had often done in the past. Perhaps, in a few minutes, he would crave people again. Then, maybe, he would go and stop in a street full of them, absorbing their thoughts, their ki, their movements, drinking it all in with his senses as if he would reach out and know each person, merely by touching them.  
  
But for now, being alone suited him perfectly.  
  
Stopping, the ends of his trenchcoat swirling a moment before settling in with the knowledge that the rest of his body had stopped, the man glanced over at an empty shop. Nobody was there, so nobody would mind. Even if someone HAD been there, however, it wouldn't have stopped him. Glancing at the windows, he extended his mind, just a little, and shattered the large, bullet proof picture window that covered the shop's front. Walking to the where the window had been, the glass underfoot crackling as he stepped on it, he reached his hand forward and plucked out a cigarette pack and a small, silver lighter from the broken window.  
  
Perfect. Hadn't had a smoke in a while.  
  
Gently ripping the casing off the pack, he cursed as he pulled too hard and the pack exploded, cigarettes flying everywhere. Determined to get one, however, his hand reached forward at a speed that would have put Ranma's Amaguriken technique to shame and gently caught one, before it had landed onto it's new home in the dirt of the road.  
  
Slowly and with great care, the man gently sparked the ligher, hoping he didn't do it too hard and break it. Much to his great satisfaction, the lighter tip exploded into a small, controlled flame, a tiny wisp of heat emanating from it. Lighting his cigarette, he flicked the lighter case shut (not noticing that the top casing flew right off and onto the ground) and dropped it into his pocket.  
  
He began to walk again, the surface of his trenchcoat rippling as if it were alive.  
  
Maybe today wouldn't turn out to be so bad after all.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
Tatewaki Kuno had been running the entire time, in hopes that he wouldn't be late when the first bell at Furinkan high school sounded. Though Kuno may have possessed the speed, and usually the wits to keep his head about and focused on where he was going, he was slightly distracted today at the prospect of being late.  
  
Hence why he never noticed the man as he turned the corner.  
  
He continued to run, eyes shut, breathing labored. He couldn't be late, not now. Not when he had nearly killed himself to get there, dammit!  
  
All might have been fine, had the man but moved from Kuno's path. As it was, however, he made no sign of moving for the kendoist, or even seeing him, for that matter.  
  
Such as it was, Kuno slammed straight into the man's chest and was knocked back with a loud "ooof".  
  
Blinking groggily, thinking he had slammed straight into a cement wall at top speed, Kuno managed to raise himself to a kneeling position with the help of his ever present bokken.  
  
The weakness he was feeling fled, however, when Kuno spotted the hilt of the man's Katana, which was just barely visible over his head.  
  
"You.." Kuno could barely contain his excitement. Imagine, another swordsman, here, in Nerima! "You carry a sword!" he cried.  
  
The man snorted. "And you carry a toy" he said, cigarette still in his mouth, pointing to Kuno's bokken. The man continued to walk past Kuno as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
"I..." Kuno glanced down at his bokken. "This is not a toy!" he cried. He stood up, anger beginning to make him quake. "I will teach you not to slight the great Tatewaki Kuno!"  
  
The man stopped walking, slowly turning his head.  
  
And Kuno froze.  
  
The man's deep, liquid red eyes had started to faintly glow, as if from a rage. The man turned fully now, and Kuno noticed, for the first time, the extremely odd, living color of the man's jacket. It moved, like a snake, though the trenchcoat itself managed to remain very, very still.  
  
"Slight?" The man laughed, that cold, sinister, rising laughter, his red eyes flashing his hot ki. "Slight the great Kuno?" he seemed to find something funny in all this. "I wouldn't dream...." he paused, his red eyes starting to blur from Kuno's field of vision. Suddenly, he turned his head up, and laughed. "I wouldn't dream, " he repeated "Mr. Blue Thunder."  
  
Kuno was still quaking, though this time, it was from fear. He could barely manage to keep a grip on his wooden sword. "Focus!" he thought to himself "Focus, or you'll never defeat this vile creature!"  
  
The man burst out laughing again. "Vile creature? Surely, I'm not all that bad." Moving suddenly, there was but an instant before Kuno realized the man's face was but inches before his own.  
  
"Wha.." Kuno could barely speak "What do you want, Philistine??"  
  
The man's glowing red eyes peered deep into Kuno's, searching out his soul, his heart, as if he would tear from Kuno the very essence of him. This man was not a man. This was not right, not good. This could not be!  
  
This fear, lodged so deeply in Kuno's heart, was reborn a thousand times upon hearing the man's next words.  
  
"I desire that which you know," the man whispered soothingly, as the world tinted red for Kuno "And soon, that which you desire, I, too, shall desire." The red eyes peered deeper, deeper.  
  
Red. Red like blood.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
Ranma slowly came to the table where everyone was already seated. He was still recovering from minute of exquisite pain he had recieved earlier, the one that had chilled his heart. Akane, who was obviously still fuming over something, was angrily eating her breakfast. Sitting down next to her, he felt as if maybe launching a tirade of "Stupid tomboy!" would get his mind off things, but then it happened again.  
  
Again, again, that pain! But this time, only one voice, and no hands. But this voice was... familiar. Familiar in a way he didn't like at all.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
  
The man smiled.  
  
A breeze rippled at his trenchcoat, making it appear alive again, the colors swirling and swirling. Swirling with life, with power.  
  
The man laughed.  
  
He had seen, in the mind's eye of that boy, a child of 17 years, black pig tail, red chinese shirt, performing advanced katas and moves unknown to most mortals.  
  
Oh, yes. Powerful.  
  
And also fun. It had been a long time since he had had a toy.  
  
And he was so dreadfully bored.  
  
He smirked. Oh, I hope you're ready, Ranma Saotome. I hope you're ready indeed.  
  
"Because I'm bored, Ranma.. " the man seemed to relish the taste of Ranma's name on his lip.  
  
He rarely spoke names.  
  
"So I hope you're ready, Saotome.... since you have no choice."  
  
Keijiro had returned, after so many long years of nothing.  
  
Keijiro smiled, his red eyes flashing brightly.  
  
Yes indeed, Keijiro was back.  
  
Authors Notes  
Yes, I intend to continue this story. No idea how long it's going to be, really, but I'm shooting for 10 chapters. Hope you'll manage to stick with me and be patient if you liked this.  
  
If you're interested in my other work, you're gonna have to wait. A homepage is coming up soon, but in the meantime, visit http://www.anime-7.net since I plan on accouncing the joint page there as well.  
  
And is Kuno dead??  
Who knows?  
...me, that's who. :) 


	2. Chapter 1

Okay, well... this is the first chapter of "Fall of Grace." Though you can pick up the story so far from it, it's better to read the Prologue first. In a while you'll be able to pick it up at http://www.geocities.com/ascensionfics/ . But for now, just click on my author profile.  
  
Anyway.  
  
Disclaimer. I don't own Ranma ½, they are the brilliant creations of Rumiko Takahashi. All other characters, however, that are not in the original story, belong to me. Also, don't sue. I've got less than a dollar right about now, so unless you REALLY feel like wasting your time...  
  
Anyway...   
  
Fall of Grace  
Chapter 1  
  
  
***  
  
A day of peace. So tranquil, so quiet. So still, that eternal, blessed peace.  
  
Then again, it was always like that in this room.  
  
Though the outside of the large, oaken doors that opened into the room bore a nameplate that identified it as an office, upon entering, one would begin to question if they had really seen it, or merely dreamt the notion up. Beautiful, sweet smelling plants, of every kind, size and shape, adorned the walls, the floors, the ceilings of the 'office'. Small, sweet springs bubbled up from crystalline pools which were fed from the tiny waterfalls that eternally flowed, the impression of life, of forever.  
  
Less like a jungle, more like a garden, Keijiro thought to himself.  
  
Oftentimes, as a small child, Keijiro had lost himself in pure bliss, wandering in and among the plants, the sweet perfume and the beautiful bird song making him doubt if there really was a feeling called 'pain'. How long he had spent here, in his presence, in his eternal garden of all encompassing beauty, he could never remember. Only that time seemed to flow much slower when he was elsewhere.  
  
But not today. No, he couldn't get lost, not today. After all, he had a purpose, a mission. And a noble one at that. With this thought in mind, a slow smile began to spread across his face. The absolute brilliance of his plan made him feel triumphant, even before he had accomplished his goals. He could kill two birds with one stone, easy!  
  
All he had to do, of course, was convince Kami.  
  
However, he had worked his argument with such perfection, such utter skill, that the very words themselves practically dripped of wisdom and intelligence. He smirked. True, it had taken him a few days to work his argument into place. And practice. Lots and lots of practice. Nearly every resident on the Kami plane had heard his argument about four times. At first, they would argue back with him like Kami might, to help him slowly form his argument. They soon stopped, however, when they realized he wasn't listening to any of their suggestions. Of course, he mistook their annoyance at his stubborness for brilliance in his argument. Either way, things were looking pretty good.  
  
Keijiro slowed his walking. He didn't want to appear over-eager or anything in front of Kami, and he was nearly to him. Kami (being Kami) could sense everything, especially so in him, it seemed, so unless he watched himself, he would easily be figured out and shooed away.  
  
What Keijiro failed to notice, of course, was that his emotions, feelings, and motives were so plainly etched on his face that Kami didn't even have to bother with paying much attention to him. Normally, this would have spelt doom for Keijiro's plan long before he even managed to say hello to Kami. However, as fond as the phrase "Kei-chan" was, he was no longer a child. Which meant that if he was going to make a mistake or learn a lesson, he was going to do it and not have anyone prevent him from it.  
  
Keijiro stopped about 10 meters from Kami. He kneeled, his head down low to gaze at the floor, which brought his long, soft white hair to rest before his deep, liquid green eyes. His shimmering white robes had fallen into place around him, seeming to alight him with a soft, sullen glow.  
  
Kami stared at all this, and a heavy, yet happy sounding sigh emanted from him. So magnificent, his children. Each one possesing a different beauty, each one finding a different niche in his heart. He deeply loved them, their strengths, their personalities, their souls. Their eternal ignorance, the one that bound them to wisdom like a fly caught in the web of a dead spider. It was all more than enough to bring tears to his eyes, those soft, knowing eyes, the ones that spoke of eternity, of wisdom, of happiness and pain. Caring eyes, compassionate eyes. The eyes of a father, both overjoyed and eternally saddened.  
  
Keijiro continued to gaze at the floor, his soft, white hair covering his vision so that he could look at little else. He was starting to get a little impatient with waiting (not that he would admit it, since he WAS waiting on Kami), when suddenly the man's soft voice arose and spoke.  
  
"Welcome, Kei-chan. Come to play in my garden?" Kami's voice dripped with amusement.  
  
Keijiro flinched. As popular as the term "Kei-chan" was, it had never been that way with him. "I beg your indifference to my youth, all father. Though while my form bears great resemblence to that of a young man, I am in mind no more a child as you, Kami-sama."  
  
Kami smiled. Yes, that was his little Kei-chan alright. Struggling for respect in a world where most of his kind has lived thousands of years already, whereas he has lived to about 20. Most of his kind still treated him as if he were a baby, and though it saddened Kami to know of this, in the end, it could only help to make Keijiro stronger.  
  
Which was precisely what he needed. Though he was strong (stronger, in fact, than most of the young and even a few elder ones), he still had far to go. And he would need it. Beings like Keijiro were rare, after all. As a matter of fact, Kami couldn't recall a time in the past millenia in which a being even remotely similar to Keijiro had existed.  
  
Which is why he needed so much strength. He was different than the rest of the residents on the Kami plane, and, despite their illusions to the contrary, most immortal beings didn't like differences. Not to say that the elder ones didn't dearly love him. As fact would have it, they embraced Keijiro's differences, and urged him to do the same.  
  
No, it was those lacking in wisdom who didn't like him. It wasn't a real grudge, either. They just didn't like him because he was different, he was a change. He was also much more powerful, and that never went over real well with the young, arrogant dieties.  
  
After a few minutes more of thought, Kami decided to stop ignoring Keijiro's impatience and spoke again. "Perhaps, Keijiro. But mistake not the vigor and arrogance of youth for the wisdom of experience. Ignore that, and your downfall would be assured." Kami mentally flinched as he noticed Keijiro ever so slightly squirm. Though it had to be said, he still deeply abhored hurting his children. "Regardless," Kami continued, "You are not on a personal errand but on business, I am assuming?"  
  
Keijiro continued to kneel. "Yes, Kami-sama."  
  
Kami smiled. He had already sensed the young angel's outstanding faith in his plan working. Well, in truth, his plan WOULD work. Every diety, at some point, asked for this. To refuse it would be to refuse them salvation itself. Nodding his head slowly, Kami spoke. "Arise, Keijiro, and tell me what you would seek."  
  
Slowly standing, his deep, liquid green eyes slightly glowing from excitement, Keijiro tried to keep his emotions from his voice. "Father, I would request of you that I go down to Earth. In my many gazes down there, I have seen your children in pain. I wish to help them, Lord." And get off the bloody Kami plane for once, he mentally added. Not that he didn't enjoy the Kami plane, but there was a whole world down there (literally), and he didn't want to miss it.  
  
Kami stared at Keijiro, still smiling. So different, so magnificent, this one. Even when he acts the same as the others, he's still different, Kami silently thought. His request would be granted, no doubt about that. But the one thing Kami hadn't been expecting was the boy's hidden motive.  
  
He chuckled. Yes, that was Keijiro alright. Even managing to surprise the all-father by the simplest of his actions. Then again, he had been paying little attention to Kei-chan as of late. Perhaps, if he had, he would have seen the Angel's second motive from far, far off.  
  
Shrugging as if it were unimportant (and it was, really), Kami merely nodded. "Go, Kei-chan." Keijiro stared at him then, missing the 'chan' suffix in his surprise. "Though you will learn, soon, that things are much different than you percieve them to be. Remember, go and help my child."  
  
Keijiro frowned. Was he asking him to save someone specific? He shook his head. No, he thought. He would have mentioned it if he had been. Regardless, his request had been granted, and without the dutifully prepared argument, much to his surprise. He smiled. It didn't matter of he had argued or not-he had gotten what he wanted.  
  
Finally, a ticket out of here.  
  
Bowing lowly, he spoke "Arigatou Gozaimasu" in the most respectful tones he could muster, turned, and walked away, trying to hide his excitement.  
  
As soon as Keijiro had left, a voice arose from the darkness cast by one of the trees. "You've rarely granted requests like that in the past, Kami-sama."  
  
If Kami was surprised at the sudden intrusion, he made no show of it. "They rarely ask, old friend." he said, using a more comfortable phrase than their official titles. "And you know more than anyone why I do this."  
  
"True enough," the voice coldly spoke. "But there have been times when you have refused them all the same."  
  
Kami turned around and faced the voice behind him. "Keijiro has many lessons to learn yet. This is why I honored his request. The others that I have turned down already know this lesson. They merely choose to ignore it." he sighed. Though his lips were fixed in a neutral expression, his eyes spoke of the frown that wouldn't quite come.  
  
"I've failed, old friend."  
  
The voice from the dark snorted. "Not likely. There are those that would completely disagree with you. Then there are those that would say it's a complete success."  
  
Kami frowned. "There are those that are lacking in wisdom and experience." He sighed. "I've rarely punished souls, really. In the damning sense, that is. There are merely too few who truly deserve it." He glanced down at the floor. "If I walked into my office at this moment, I think I would damn myself."  
  
The other man slowly shook his head, though the movement was lost to everyone, since he was still in the shadows. "Nonsense," he replied. "You can't blame yourself for the sins of your children, old friend. Do that, and you're liable to go mad before the eternity ends."  
  
Kami snorted. "Mad? And who does a mad god turn to in his grief?"  
  
The figure, though still unseen, was obviously smiling. "Why, me, of course."  
  
Kami forced a smile.  
  
Sensing his discomfort, the figure quickly changed the subject. "You send him on a pointless quest, Kami."  
  
Kami showed no signs of assent or dissent. "Hopelessness exists only in the hearts of man, old friend. My children merely let it out onto the world in the things they do."  
  
The figure nodded. "He will learn that soon enough. He has far to go till he is complete, after all."  
  
"Why do you speak of him like that?" Kami asked.  
  
The figure seemed slightly taken aback. "Like what?"  
  
Kami sighed. "You know what I mean."  
  
The figure smiled. "You know why well enough, old friend. And one day," he added, staring at the doors from which Keijiro had recently exited, "so shall he."  
  
***  
  
*So shall he.....*  
  
Keijiro stopped walking, his heavy black boots making one last echo. Looking around for a moment, he muttered "Hmph" before taking a slow, long drag of his cigarette, and glanced up into the sky as a chill wind rustled his long, rust colored coat.  
  
Smiling tightly, he threw his cigarette down onto the ground and mashed it with his large boot.  
  
Hah.  
  
"Shutup, old man," Keijiro softly said, looking up to the sky again. "I've learned what you wanted me to, long, long ago. Now let me be." he smiled up at the sky, his red eyes flashing.  
  
Looking back down ahead, Keijiro continued his slow walk.  
  
***  
  
"Ranma?" Akane's anger instantly boiled down (though what even caused it is, as usual, a mystery) as she noticed that Ranma was flinching and trying desperately not to scream. "Ranma what's wrong!?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"I....I...." Ranma's eyes flung open wide, sweat pouring in great drops down his forehead. "Akane, it's...." he flinched, still trying not to scream.  
  
"Ranma what is it?!" Akane started to rise, but as she did so, Ranma finally screamed.  
  
"YOU'RE ON MY FOOT YOU STUPID TOMBOY!!!" Ranma yelled as loud as possible.  
  
"I..." Akane's pale, worried face appeared shocked a moment before donning that angry expression again. "Die, Ranma!" she screamed as she brought her mallet down, hard, on the top of his head. "How's THAT feel?!" she angrily stalked off.  
  
Ranma's last thoughts, before slipping into the darkness of sleep, were something along the befuddled lines of "Perhaps I could have covered that up better..."  
  
***  
  
Akane angrily grabbed Ranma's collar and began to drag him off to school. He was still unconcious, the poor fool. Not that Akane cared (or if she did, she wasn't admitting it to anyone-most especially herself). Her feet barely touching the ground, she ran out the door and on her way to school, Ranma's mind still somewhere out in dream land.  
  
Stupid fool, she thought. How can he be such an insensitive jerk? There he was, acting like he was DYING, and I was just sitting on his foot! He didn't have to make such a big deal about it. Honestly, I wonder why I even bother worrying about him.  
  
Lies, lies, lies. Well, the last little bit anyway. And she sure as hell wasn't admitting THAT piece of info to the rest of the world.  
  
Nevertheless, she finally stopped and noticed that Ranma was taking quite a beating down there from the road (oddly enough, he was still unconcious). Sighing heavily, she dropped him to the ground, walked towards the walls lining the road, grabbed a hose, and proceeded to spray him awake.  
  
Ranma-chan jumped up, acutely aware of the cold spray of water that was currently drenching hi-no, her. Running over to Akane, Ranma angrily grabbed the hose and turned it away from her. "What the heck did you do that for, Akane!?" Ranma spluttered out, grabbing Akane's shoulders.  
  
Akane shrugged off Ranma's hands, in the usual I-care-but-I-won't-admit-it-you-stupid-jerk kind of way. "Figured you needed to finally wake up was all." She began to slowly walk off. "I suggest you stop by Dr. Tofu's for some hot water, Ranma."  
  
Ranma fumed. She was about ready to scream "YOU ARE SO UNCUTE!" but stopped when she realized it was better to NOT push her luck. She settled for muttering "Stupid tomboy..." under her breath when she thought Akane was far enough away from her.  
  
Judging by the schoolbag that flew back straight into Ranma head, she wasn't.  
  
***  
  
Does beauty fade over time? Or is it that our eyes are eventually dulled to it?  
  
Keijiro had lived a rather long life. Over ten thousand years, in fact.  
  
Ten thousands years of wandering.  
  
So it should come as no surprise that he no longer noticed the small wonders and beauties of nature. In reality, he had seen them more than enough times to make him sick.  
  
But what was it about this morning?  
  
The fragrant air, perhaps. Maybe the way the sunlight danced across the ground. It could even have been the soul of that foolish Kendoist inside him. Though the boy didn't have what one might call a true romantic streak in him, he obviously enjoyed the beauties of nature.  
  
Regardless of the reason, the morning seemed to entrance him in a way that he couldn't remember truly happening before. Closing his eyes for a second, Keijiro inhaled deeply, seeming to treasure the warm, fragrant air inside his lungs before releasing it in a long stream of breath. Opening his deep, liquid red eyes, Keijiro turned his head up and stared at the sky, his eyes starting to glow in a deep, reddish-green color.  
  
After a few moments of staring at the sky, however, a slow frown began to appear on his face. His eyes flashed red as he got the strangest notion that the sky was staring straight back at him...  
  
***  
  
"Do you think it's possible?" a voice nearly bursting with excitement exclaimed.  
  
Another voice answered, "It's likely, but we'd have to use the right one. Unfortunately, we know little to nothing about the real situation at hand here."  
  
The first voice seemed fairly displeased. "Let's have some light, for Kami's sakes. I've seen enough already."  
  
A few seconds afterwards, a dull lamp was lit, illuminating the entirety of the small room. The room was extremely old, and looked to be well used. Actually, a rather popular joke (it's humour is lost on everyone 'normal' I assure you) among the dieties who frequented the room was that when the world was created, Kami had just a little bit of materials left and created the room. For what purpose is not told in the joke, however, it served it's usual purpose very well.  
  
Sake. Vast amounts of it.  
  
Today, however, was different (perhaps it would be better to say 'this meeting', since there isn't really a conception of day or night in the Kami plane). The 5 personas gathered at this moment had reason, a purpose. They couldn't drink Sake anymore as it was anyway.  
  
The persona to which the first voice belonged to spoke. "There is hope, Tenshi-san. You saw it yourself, after all."  
  
Tenshi (who was the second voice) seemed to frown. "Hope, yes. Chance? Barely. It's rather slim, Okuta-san, and we don't know enough as it is to do it."  
  
Okuta scowled, his gaze turning down to the center of the floor. A small pool of water lay there, and, while there was nothing there now, just a few minutes ago the image of Keijiro, eyes glowing reddish-green, had been there, displayed perfectly in the crystal pool.  
  
Okuta looked back up at Tenshi. "Deny it or not, for a moment, there was a deep struggle. I think that, if there is still a struggle, all is not lost." His eyes returned to the pool, as if Keijiro was still there. "I think we can deduce enough from this to know where to go."  
  
Tenshi raised the ghost of an eyebrow. "You don't honestly mean..." he seemed hesitant to finish.  
  
Okuta nodded. "Indeed I do, Tenshi-san."  
  
Tenshi's eyes alit with a smile as he slowly nodded.  
  
"Then prepare the 'welcoming ceremony'."  
  
***  
  
Ryouga Hibiki was lost.  
  
Now, this was nothing new, really. Ryouga had been lost for most of his life, seemingly cursed with the inability to realize just what direction he's headed in.  
  
But just because he was always lost didn't make it easy. It was always extremely frustrating and depressing to find yourself lost when you didn't want to be. And oftentimes he would find himself lost beyond all hope.  
  
Every now and then, of course, he would recognize where he was. The first time this had happened, he had nearly exploded in excitement and relief. However, that was soon lost as he realized that, despite the fact that he knew where he was, he didn't know how he had gotten there, or how to get to another place he recognized from there.  
  
So, regardless of where he went, Ryouga was usually lost.  
  
And, like was said before, today was no real exception to this, except for that he had slight pangs of Deja Vu at this moment, like he had been here, and fairly recently.  
  
Sighing heavily to himself, he sat against the nearest wall. He was probably in Okinawa again, for the third time this week. And it was frustrating because he didn't WANT to be in Okinawa. He had been trying to get to Nerima for the past 4 weeks, and it seems that, no matter what way he went, he always ended up right at this damnable wall in Okinawa.  
  
Same wall, same spot, every single time.  
  
Now, if, during any of his frequent visits to this particular spot, Ryouga had managed to look just right above his head, he would have yelled in delight. Sitting right above his head was a sign.  
  
A sign that read "Furinkan High School".  
  
But he never noticed this. He was usually so deep in his own thoughts that he would never bother to look up at the sign, or look to the side and notice the school, either.  
  
Poor fool.  
  
***  
  
Keijiro continued to stare at the sky, his liquid eyes glowing the softest of reds. The notion that the sky had been staring back at him had long ago gone away, but he still felt extremely uneasy.  
  
He frowned. "I said stay out of this, old man..." Keijiro's eyes flashed a deep red for a brief moment. "I may have time, but none for your games..." A dark red aura began to softly glow around him.  
  
Looking back down, Keijiro's frown deepened, and he began to slowly walk away.  
  
***  
  
Dr. Tofu had been practicing medicine for quite a while. In his day, he had seen some fairly... strange things.  
  
Most of these things he had seen in his medicinal training. For instance, the first time he had ever been able to see a person's aura, he had nearly jumped through the roof in surprise. Or like the first time he had seen Ranma's curse. THAT had been quite a shock. Afterwards, he had spent the entire week researching up on the history and curses of Jusenkyo, looking for a cure, or anything.  
  
He had, in fact, found an answer. Certainly not the one he had been looking for, but an answer was an answer.  
  
There was, in truth, no cure for Ranma's curse.  
  
He had just never had the heart to tell him was all.  
  
Most doctors would call that bad practice, not informing the patient as to what their situation really was. Not that Tofu would have listened to them if they had said it. Those same doctors worked in large, impersonal hospitals in which they're paid vast amounts of money to tell patients that it's hopeless.  
  
Tofu had gone into medicine because he liked people. He enjoyed helping others, and he enjoyed the looks of gratitude they gave him when he helped them. He had personal relationships with every one of his patients, and was deeply involved in their problems when they told them to him.  
  
It was no different with Ranma. Tofu knew what the poor boy had to deal with daily, and it wasn't really easy. For someone raised to be a 'man among men', turning into a girl certainly would not be enjoyable.  
  
So he had never told him about his discovery. And it would have been wrong to inform him of it anyway. The book had clearly stated that there was no cure _that they knew of_. This meant that perhaps there was still hope, and in truth, bad practice in this situation would have been to crush that hope while it still existed.  
  
But we're getting away from the point here.  
  
Due to his vast amount of experience in life and in medicine, there was little that could truly astonish him or surprise him.  
  
Except for one thing. Ranma came in every couple of days or so to get one of his many injuries healed, and, though he would never tell how he got them, it was obvious that Akane had done it.  
  
Not to say that Ranma didn't complain. Not at all, he would often talk about her, about how she was such a tomboy, about how uncute she was, and how unsexy, and how she'd never catch a husband, etc, etc, etc.  
  
He had it so bad, it hurt to watch sometimes.  
  
He understood exactly what the boy felt like towards Akane, of course. And how she felt about him as well. But when Ranma-chan walked in, nursing her injured head, Tofu couldn't help but chuckle.  
  
***  
  
"Where, oh where, could you possibly be, Ranma Saotome..." Keijiro smiled, his voice carrying a slightly sarcastic tone.  
  
"Ah, what are you interested in a punk like him for??" a small voice inquired to his side.  
  
Keijiro frowned. He hadn't really been expecting a response to his question. Turning towards the direction of the voice, his frown deepened to a scowl.  
  
The voice that had spoken belonged to a very small, very old man. Though the aura he was emitting was powerful, it was obviously just barely enough to keep life in his old bones. And he should be bed ridden, at that.  
  
But he wasn't. The old man was obviously very active, and he looked like he had more energy than a small child. Though he was obviously gifted in Ki control, he shouldn't have quite that much power...  
  
"What business is of it yours, old man?" Keijiro softly asked, a breeze rippling and sending waves throughout his coat.  
  
The old man didn't seem to notice the bad omen. "Why, everything that punk does is my business," he said, his voice carrying a slight tone of... disgust? Keijiro's frown began to turn up a little. This might prove interesting after all.  
  
"I'm his master, after all." the old man muttered.  
  
Keijiro broke out into laughter. "His master?" he asked after a few moments of laughing. "Old man, by all rights, you should be bed ridden. And here you are, his master!" He started to laugh again.  
  
Happousai (if you haven't figured out who it was yet, it's him) scowled. Normally he would have sent this young punk into the air by now, but something about him said... that he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. That he was far more powerful, far more ancient than even he was. He opened his mouth to speak, still angry. "Didn't you want to know where that young punk Ranma was?"  
  
Keijiro's laughter died away at Happousai's question. Looking back at the old man, his red eyes slowly began to glow. "I did, yes.. but I have a much more... interesting solution."  
  
Happousai rarely felt fear. After over 300 long years of life, you experience (and do) quite a lot of things. So, after a while, you just don't feel fear anymore. Yet there were still some things, on this plane and the next, that caused even his blood to run cold.  
  
The feeling inside him to run was very, very strong.  
  
But that same fear laughed at him, screaming at him that it was impossible.  
  
Maybe that's why he stood there, watching as Keijiro rushed forward into him, staring as he felt his blood stop, as he felt his skin turn cold, as he slowly felt himself turning into nothing more than his remaining persona, before even that was sucked away, inside somewhere he didn't want to be.  
  
Whatever the reason, the old man was gone.  
  
***  
  
Ranma had been sitting on the patient table, waiting for Dr. Tofu to return with an ice pack when it happened again. That horrible, wrenching pain.  
  
He rolled off the table and dropped to the floor, gasping, desperately trying not to scream. His hands moved up, god, it hurt, over to his chest, damn, pain, over his eyes, hurt, like hands clawing at his skin, pain, like a voice screaming into his pierced head.  
  
He bit his lip, his eye twitched, tears coming out as he slammed them shut, Kami, what the hell is this?? Just make it go away, can't go away, hurting, blackness, rust, eyes, red, dammit all!  
  
Ranma finally screamed, a long, tortured howl that sent Tofu running into the room. He had just finished preparing the ice pack when he was Ranma. Screaming and clutching at his chest in a pool of his own blood.  
  
Tofu dropped the ice pack in shock. What in the name of all that was holy... Tofu cut off the thought as he ran over to Ranma and gently took hold of him, trying to stop him from shaking so that he could flip him over and see his chest. When he couldn't manage that, he finally just flipped him over, shaking or no.  
  
He stared down at Ranma's chest... and frowned.  
  
There wasn't a thing wrong with it.  
  
As a matter of fact, no matter where Tofu looked around, there didn't seem to be blood coming from anywhere visible. Though it was obvious the hoarse screaming and now interspersed violent coughing had cause some of it, there was still far more than should be there.  
  
Quickly moving his hands over various parts of Ranma's body, Tofu pressed Ranma's sleep points, hoping that, in sleep, he would stop coughing.  
  
Luckily enough, it seemed to have worked. Ranma's eyes slowly shut, his screaming and coughing stopped, and, after a few moments, his chest began to heave in a slow, regular breathing pattern.  
  
Tofu frowned, picked Ranma up, and gently placed him back on the table. What in Kami's name had happened? He had run into the room, seeing Ranma on the floor, spitting up blood, clutching at various places as if they were deeply wounded, screaming and screaming and screaming till his voice box gave-  
  
His thoughts were interupted as he stared closer at him. In his haste, he hadn't noticed the source of the blood. He did now, however... and deeply scowled.  
  
Tofu sighed, trying to clear his head, and shut his eyes. Taking a few deep, controlled breaths, he waited a few moments while concentrating on the silence. When he thought he was focused enough, he opened his eyes, and looked back down at Ranma.  
  
What he saw caused him to nearly scream himself.  
  
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  
  
Tofu's eyes went wide as dinnerplates, and he stepped backwards, tripping over something. He fell hard on the floor, slowly muttering something over and over and over again, as if in a daze.  
  
"Stigmata, Stigmata, Stigmata, Stigmata, Stigmata..."  
  
***  
  
Akane was an angry, angry person. She loved being angry, in fact. And she especially loved to be angry when she was alone, because there was no one there to dispute her.  
  
This why her thoughts were so carefully focused on Ranma and on being mad at him this morning. She had already tried to release a good deal of anger by smashing the odd pole here and there, but it wasn't quite working. Actually, the only thing it really did was make her a great deal angrier.  
  
So, with Akane lost in her anger, and Ryouga lost in his thoughts (no pun intended), they never noticed the other as Akane passed.  
  
Now, had things gone differently, Akane would have said hello, and Ryouga would have been able to figure out that he was indeed right where he wanted to be.  
  
But things never seemed to go right for the poor fool, and Akane passed right by him.  
  
Walking into the school yard, she was silently heading towards the front doors when she slammed right into something. A look of surprise donned her face till she looked up and saw who it was. She frowned.  
  
Kuno.  
  
"Kuno, I don't have time for this.." she angrily muttered, and thrust her fist forward at him. However, much to her surprise, Kuno merely caught her fist and stared at it. His grip was immensely strong... much stronger than it had ever been. She glanced up at him again, and started to notice that there was something extremely different about him, and not in a good way, either...  
  
Kuno finally spoke. "Why did you do that?"  
  
This question caught her off guard. "I... .... wha? Do what, Kuno?"  
  
He frowned, as if it should be obvious. "Try and punch me. Why did you do that?"  
  
Akane was really surprised now. This was not the Kuno she knew. "I... well you were in my way baka! You were asking for it..." she frowned.  
  
Kuno merely looked surprised. "In your way, maybe, but I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't expect you to run right into me."  
  
She stared up in surprise. This was getting strange. Twenty seconds had passed already and he hadn't uttered the words "Goddess" or "Love" yet, nor was he even speaking in his normal, horrible Shakespeare.  
  
She glanced up at his face, trying to figure out just why he looked slightly different as well. Something about his appearance was... strange.  
  
"I just wanted to ask you... where is the one known as 'Ranma Saotome'?" Kuno politely asked. It wasn't the normal, bad tone he spoke of Ranma, but a geniunely... curious one.  
  
Akane, thrown off guard by the tone of the question, lost her train of thought. "Umm... oh, right. He stopped by at Dr. Tofu's to, um..." she frowned as she realized she had nearly slipped and said 'to get some hot water'.  
  
Kuno pointedly continued. "Will he be here soon?"  
  
Akane frowned. "He better be, after all I did to wake him up..."  
  
Kuno nodded, and then did something very strange... sat down and shut his eyes.  
  
"Alright then. We'll wait."  
  
Akane frowned (she does that a lot). "Kuno, I have to go to class, or I'll be la-" she was cut off as Kuno forcibly grabbed her arm and and slammed her onto the ground, making her scream loudly in pain. That grip... felt like ice...  
  
"I said, WE'LL wait."  
  
***  
  
Darkness... just keep in it... there isn't pain in the darkness...  
  
Don't scream... no... sound... what... sound... why... pain...  
  
That scream... on the edge of dark... pain, horrible... hurting scream..  
  
`kane... it's... Akane... Akane screaming...  
  
Akane's in pain.  
  
Ranma finally awoke.  
  
Ignoring his wounds and the surprised Dr. Tofu on the floor, Ranma ran down out the steps and on his way to Furinkan.  
  
***  
  
Ryouga awoke with a start from his reverie. Somebody had screamed in pain, and not far away... it was familiar, somehow, like something, someone he had dreamed about for so long-  
  
Akane!  
  
"Akane!" Ryouga screamed, jumped up and (amazingly, Kami must have been been smiling on him) went straight to the Furinkan grounds. He was too focused on Akane to notice that he was NOT in Okinawa.  
  
When he got there, however, he stopped in surprise. There was Akane, yes, but she wasn't being captured by demons, she wasn't being killed, or seriously hurt in a fight, or... anything really. She was just... sitting there, next to Kuno.  
  
Now, Akane and Kuno sitting together WAS an odd sight in itself. But when you're expecting some half crazed sex demon warping out of a portal from another dimension grabbing at her, the entire weirdness of this situation was lost.  
  
Ryouga frowned. This was indeed a strange day...  
  
***  
  
Ranma ran forward. He was nearly at Furinkan, almost there, just gotta run a little bit more... there, the gates, run forward, they're not shut yet, get past them, towards Akane's scream...  
  
Then he ran forward, past a dazed Ryouga, towards Akane, where she was... sitting? With Kuno?  
  
Ranma mentally shrugged. He didn't know what he was expecting, but she had screamed, and that was more than enough reason to beat the hell out of anyone close to her.  
  
He ran straight up to Kuno, prepared to punt the bastard straight out of the sky when he stopped... he was frozen.  
  
What in hell's name..  
  
Kuno smiled, and opened his eyes. Red, red eyes. Deep, liquid, red glowing eyes.  
  
"Not hell, Saotome. Heaven." Kuno's arrogant, amused smile was still on his face. "And it's so very rude of you to rush forward, prepared to attack me like that, without even introducing yourself. Well, lucky me, I already know who you are."  
  
Ranma wondered if he could speak, and tried. Indeed, he could. "Kuno, you jerk. How did you do that?! And you already know who I am!!"  
  
"Kuno?" the red eyes glinted in wonder for a second. "Oh, him. Don't worry about Kuno, he won't be bothering you anymore." he laughed, "And all I did was extend my Ki. You know how to do that, of course, but I'm a lot more powerful than you are. You have little chance of escaping... unless I let you, of course."  
  
Ranma frowned. What was happening? Why was Kuno acting so strange, and talking so funny (well, 'normal' would be the correct word, but it's Kuno)?  
  
And why were his eyes... glowing red?  
  
'Kuno' laughed. "Don't question, Saotome. Just prepare yourself." 'Kuno' raised his bokken.  
  
And Ranma could move again.  
  
Ranma rushed Keijiro (if you hadn't figured that out by now that's it him...), his eyes afire. "I don't care what you think you can do, Kuno, but I heard Akane screaming... and no one does that, Kuno..." Punch, kick.  
  
Keijiro laughed and elbowed Ranma in the stomach, sending him whirling back into the wall. "Oh, wait. I'm supposed to use this stupid thing." he laughed. "It's no wonder he lost so often, weilding such a toy..." Keijiro waved the bokken menacingly before breaking out into laughter again.  
  
Ranma growled. "Hey, take me seriously, you jerk!"  
  
Keijiro stopped laughing. His eyes flashed deep red as he smiled.  
  
"Then bring it on."  
  
***  
  
Tenshi frowned. "Those other two... their Kis are slightly tainted."  
  
Okuta nodded. "It won't matter that much, Tenshi-san. This spell shouldn't affect them any."  
  
Tenshi sighed, then seemed to nod. "I think you're right, Okuta-san." He gazed down at the image of Keijiro (still in Kuno's form) and Ranma fighting. "But they're moving around so much..."  
  
Okuta waved his hands, like it wasn't a big deal. "It won't matter that much, Tenshi-san. We can simply do it on the entire area, they shouldn't move too far from it."  
  
Tenshi nodded. "Then let's start."  
  
The 5 personas slowly linked hands and began to chant, the image of the two fighters starting to faintly glow.  
  
***  
  
Keijiro had started to laugh again when he saw Ranma fight. "You're good, boy, but you're not much compared to me!" He continued to laugh, blocking all of Ranma's attacks, taking no damage whatsoever.  
  
And this is when a very, very strange feel to air came about, almost too small to notice... almost. Keijiro's mirth flew. This wasn't good...  
  
His thoughts were interupted as Ranma kicked him hard in the face, sending him back whirling, slamming into the wall. Ranma continued to leap forward, a small glow appearing in his hands.  
  
"Mouko..." Ranma's eyes blazed fire, as the small glow in his hands turned into a rather large Ki concentration.  
  
Keijiro smiled, his own eyes glowing red.  
  
"...Takabishi!!!" Ranma screamed, letting the ball go just as his leap connected with the ground in front of Keijiro.  
  
The ball of Ki energy went whirling from Ranma's hands towards it's intended target, blazing it's bright light, nearly hitting home... when it faded away.  
  
Ranma stared in shock. How in... how had Kuno managed to stop it?  
  
But Keijiro looked similarly puzzled. He hadn't been the one to stop it, which was strange...  
  
A strong wind suddenly hit the entire school yard, blasting everyone around in it, making a few of the less physically active students slam into the walls of the building.  
  
The air turned bright red, blinding everyone, as lightning strikes flew down, hitting the ground in numerous places. The wind picked up, trash and the odd student flying around.  
  
The winds and the strange colored air continued for a few moments more... then it suddenly died down, completely, leaving no trace, no lasting wind. No odd colored-air, almost as if it hadn't happened.  
  
Almost.  
  
Keijiro looked down at himself, noticing the rust colored trenchcoat, the black military boots, felt the very real katana strapped to his back...  
  
Damn.  
  
He hadn't, however, been the only one to change.  
  
Looking up at his opponent, he gagged and choked. Ranma had changed as well... into Ranma-chan. Without water, no less.  
  
This wasn't the reason Keijiro gagged, however. He had read Kuno's entire mind, and as such, knew of his two 'true loves'. However, he wasn't nearly as stupid as Kuno was in this area. He instantly knew Ranma for who he-no, she was.  
  
He shuddered. Absolutely disgusting.  
  
Ranma glanced down at herself, completely stunned... it hadn't rained in that odd storm, or anything... so why in hell's name had she changed!  
  
Keijiro sighed. "Not hell, Saotome... Heav.." he seemed to be having trouble speaking. "Heave... heav... he... he..." Keijiro's breathing increased and his red eyes glazed over.  
  
"He... heave..." he screamed.  
  
Ranma stared at Keijiro, shock still evident in her face. Keijiro's eyes flashed green, red, green, red, ever changing, and his hair kept lightening and darkening, as if neither reality or Keijiro could decide on which one was better.  
  
And from not so far off, the sound of a pig bweeing it's extreme displeasure could be heard...  
  
***  
  
Author's notes:  
  
1. For those of you unfamiliar with the term "Stigmata", think back to anything you know of Christianity. There are 5 Stigmata points, each one in one of the places where Christ was stabbed or whatever. No, this isn't a religious fic, though I'm borrowing a few theories from here and there.  
  
2. Looking for proofreaders! Come on, people!  
  
3. Also, my HD gets taken into the shop tommorow, so I'll be without a computer for a little while, probably about 6 days. I'll get to writing once I get it back.  
  
Whee... 


End file.
